Mayberry 2000

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cyravance
cyravance
17 Followers

She was seen on occasion,
Scuttling about, the one next door
Who grew quietly old while the neighbors
Turned and looked the other way.
It seemed too private a process, besides,
There were children to raise, lawns
To mow, bills to pay.

And anyway, she never emerged
To chat over the fence, never joined
The Neighborhood Watch, never
Bought boxes of Girl Scout cookies.

She had a cat, an ancient monstrosity
With one eye and a flea collar from 1989.
It hissed at the mailman and pissed
On the neighbor's shrubberies.

The house peeled while the lawn grew rank
And weedy. "An eyesore." they said,
And they shook their collective heads
As they chose colors for new vinyl siding
And rode, like knights,
On the backs of John Deere chargers.

Barbecuing on massive backyard grills
While their children played Marco Polo
In immaculate crystal pools. Then the last
Day of summer the cat, nasty thing,
Finally caught their attention.

It was howling outside the house,
"For days." someone said.
And they shook their collective heads.
"Kept me up all night, that ain't right,
There outta be a law." So they called.

Later that evening they took her away
On a stretcher, shrouded. She'd fallen,
They said, lay for three days, dead.
Someone came, with a crate, for the cat.

Within a week, maybe less, the house
Was cleaned out, boxes on the sidewalk,
Children rummaging through. Chasing each other
With big Granny panties on the ends of sticks
While ancient photographs of people no one knew
Littered the gutter, till sanitation came
And took it all away.

And the neighbors breathed a collective sigh
Of relief when new owners, who had children,
A lawnmower, and no cat, moved in. And they came
In small groups with big smiles,
To welcome them to the neighborhood.

cyravance
cyravance
17 Followers
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